


Wranduin Week 2019

by miagreymanes



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Disabled Character, Drabble Collection, F/F, Families of Choice, Gen, M/M, Multi, Wranduin - Freeform, Wranduin Week 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-04 23:10:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17907485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miagreymanes/pseuds/miagreymanes
Summary: Wranduin week 2019.Day one: First time- Wrathion's first Hallow's End is... interesting.Day two: Party- Stormwind's social season is not for the faint of heart.Day three: Reunion- Anduin returns from the war, Wrathion is waiting.Day four: Light/Shadow- Guilt is a powerful thing.Day five: Consort- Wrathion and Lorna discuss what it is to be a consort. A friendship is established.Day six: Birth/Rebirth- Both Tess and Anduin need heirs, so with the support of their mates they take care of it.Day seven: AU- The bell injured Anduin more than expected and Khadgar and Varian are an old married couple





	1. Day One: Firsts

When Anduin woke he realized that something was wrong. Where there was usually the dull hum of voices from the tavern there was instead silence, save for the occasional muffled groan. He pressed his lips together and stared up at the ceiling for a moment before he pushed himself up in the bed. It was difficult, his body ached with every move but he was determined and he was proud when he managed to stay on his feet, his legs remaining under him instead of giving out immediately. He didn’t bother dressing, instead opting for slippers and a robe before he left his room. Pausing outside of his door, he listened; quickly realizing that what he was hearing was their resident dragon— and he sounded utterly miserable.

“Wrathion?” He called out as he limped down the corridor. “Are you going to live?”

There was the sound of a muffled, feminine snort from one of the Blacktalons, although the whine that clearly came from Wrathion quickly overtook it. “No, I am dying. The last black dragon and I am to die hanging over the side of a bucket. This is so undignified.” 

Stopping in front of the door that led to the dragon’s room, Anduin raised his hand to knock— and found himself confronted with one of Wrathion’s guards. “I…”

“He’s in the corner. I’m going to go find him some tea. He’s your problem until I get back.” Left shouldered past the prince, mindful of the fact that he was still healing. “Maybe you might be able to convince him he’s not about to die.”

“I am. I am dying. Nothing you can say can convince me otherwise.” 

Left rolled her eyes before she pushed Anduin inside, shutting the door behind him. “Good luck!”

Looking around the room, it took a moment for the priest’s eyes to adjust to the darkness, and when they did he realized he could see a whelp with their head in a bucket. Claws clutched at the sides of the roughly hewn vessel, the wood splintered from the pressure; and as he took a step forward he found himself watching as Wrathion retched once more. 

“Wrathion, what did you do to yourself?”

“Nothing!” The dragon gasped between heaves. “I have done nothing, and yet I lie here dying.”

Anduin wrinkled his nose, and forced himself to cross the remaining distance between them. As he drew nearer he realized that the far corner of the room was filled with the almost overwhelming scent of candy. He was undeniably confused, but after a moment things suddenly clicked into place. His shoulders slumped down and he gave in to the urge to sigh. “You're not dying, Wrathion. You’re ill.”

“I am a dragon, I am not mortal like you. I cannot become ill.”

Giving in to the urge to sit, Anduin perched at the edge of the bed and leaned forward, chin resting on the top of his cane. “I’m going to ask you one question, and one question only.”

“Then do it now, I fear I will not be a part of this world much longer.”

“How much candy did you eat from the bucket last night?” There was a brief silence and the priest watched with some amusement as Wrathion peered over his claws at him, eyes glowing in the dim light. “And be honest.”

“I do not see what candy has to do with my death.”

“Just answer the question.”

Wrathion whined as he slumped forward, tail hanging down limply. “The bucket.”

“Yes, the candy from the bucket. How much?”

“The bucket!” 

Sitting back, Anduin’s eyes widened, his gaze drifting to the dragon’s belly. He was a whelp, he was naturally round, but his stomach was clearly distended— and it all made sense. “Wrathion, you’re supposed to have a piece, perhaps two at a time. Not the entire bucket in one sitting. Light grant me patience, I don’t even understand how you were able to eat that much. The bucket was full when I went to bed!”

The only response Wrathion managed was a whimper as he was ill once more. 

The priest watched silently for a moment, feeling the misery that radiated from Wrathion and he shook his head. Wordlessly, he pushed himself up from the bed, limping over to stand behind the dragon. When the whelp didn’t move, he braced his back against the wall, using it to slid to the ground beside him. It hurt, far more than he'd anticipated, but it was worth it. The contents of the bucket didn’t worry him in the slightest, he was a priest, a healer, and that meant coming into contact with sick and injured people. However, as he sat next to Wrathion he felt an undeniable wave of affection creep over him. It was new and unexpected, but he didn’t question it.

“This is your first Hallow’s End, wasn’t it?” When there was no response his suspicions were confirmed, and he regretted that it had not come up in conversation between them. “I think we can say this is not a mistake you will repeat. I speak from experience.” Anduin smiled slightly as he allowed the light to flow through him, easing as much of the pain and nausea as he could. He could feel that there was still more left to purge, but he was able to make him more comfortable for a time. 

Wrathion trilled softly as the priest lay his hand on his back and pressed up into the touch, seeking out comfort even though he normally would have protested. “When will this end?” 

“I don’t know,” Anduin admitted. “But what I do know is that there’s still more in there. I promise you though, it will end.”

There was silence for a moment as Wrathion raised his head, peering over his shoulder at the priest once more. “Are you certain?”

“Yes, Wrathion. I’m certain. As much as you might think that you’re dying now, you aren’t.” The priest’s chest ached at how utterly lost Wrathion sounded. It wasn’t something he’d heard before, and he hoped to never hear it again. “I will remain here with you for as long as you need.”

Wrathion nodded before he slumped back over the side of the bucket, his body shaking as he emptied more of his stomach. He could not understand why he felt the need to trust Anduin so much, but he did and he did not want him to move. 

“You really will stay with me?”

Ignoring the already spiking pain in his own body, Anduin smiled, his fingers moving over the soft scales that covered Wrathion’s back. “I give you my word.”


	2. Day 2: Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which parties are planned...or at least there is an attempt made.

Wrathion was confused— he hated being confused. In the days leading up to the end of winter, Anduin had found himself called meeting after meeting with the house of nobles. There were late nights, and the dragon’s mate was visibly frustrated, but he didn’t say a word. Things had changed around the Keep as well. Everyone seemed to move with more purpose, and while some were disgruntled, others were gleeful. He’d considered asking one of the servants or guards, but he always seemed to think better of it; that was until he found himself staring at the ceiling in the wee hours of the morning, Anduin’s side of the bed cold. He rolled off of the bed and considered seeking his mate out in his draconic form, but no, that would cause far too much of a fuss. Instead he settled for slipping of a pair of trousers so that he would not scandalize the servants as he his way towards the king’s office. 

~*~

“Anduin, what are you even doing? Why aren’t you in bed?” Standing in the door, Wrathion watched his mate with open concern. Whatever he had expected? It was not the sight before him. The priest was pale, hair hanging limply around his face, and the shadows under his eyes were startlingly deep. Wrathion silently cursed himself for not noticing sooner; Anduin was utterly exhausted.

Dropping his head back, Anduin slumped down in his chair and allowed his eyes to close for a moment. “It’s the Season.”

“It’s Spring, yes.”

It took a moment for Wrathion’s words to sink in, but when they did Anduin slowly looked up and met his mate’s gaze — it was going to be the damned candy bucket all over again, wasn’t it? “The social season?”

Wrathion shook his head, not looking away from his mate for a single moment. “I have no idea what that is.”

“Oh, Light. I envy you.” Pushing himself up, Anduin grunted as he reached for the schedule he knew was below the bulk of his work. Once he found the loose parchment he shoved it at Wrathion before slumping back tiredly. “Read this.”

Wrathion looked down at the parchment quizzically. It was a schedule, that much he could recognize, and it began after the first week of spring and lasted until the start of summer. He knew of some of the events marked down, but others...he hadn’t the slight idea as to what they might be. “I know this is a calendar of sorts, but beyond that? I don’t understand what I’m looking at.”

“It’s the spring social season. It was started in Lordaeron long before it fell, and after Arthas? Well, to make a very long story short after my father was kidnapped the house of nobles, and Onyxia, convinced Bolvar that it was a good idea. When my father came back, Jaina found out and encouraged him to continue it. He hated every moment of it so he handed it off to someone else and here we are.” He paused for a moment. “That’s not a very short story, is it?”

“No, it isn’t.” Wrathion turned his gaze back to the parchment and sighed. “I am going to need you to explain things a bit further. What is the purpose behind so many events?”

“Truthfully?” Anduin looked to the open door for a moment and sighed. “My father called it ‘little more than a meat market’, and he wasn’t wrong. It is a series of events designed to bring eligible men and women together so that a suitable match can be made. It’s the parents who run everything, and it seems that they forget just how much they hated it.”

“Then why have it? Why continue?”

Anduin rubbed his face tiredly. “Because Bolvar was right. It is a tradition, and a long standing one at that. We are a city of refugees once more and this...it might help. Once the war is over, and I mean over for good, I will end it, but until then? This is going to help people to pretend things are normal for even a few hours at a time.” 

Grumbling lowly, the dragon placed the parchment back on his mate’s desk and held out his hand. “You and I are going to bed.”

“What? Wrathion, no. I still have so much ahead of me. I’ll get behind.”

“You are not going to get behind, Anduin.” Wrathion shook his head. “Why? Because tomorrow we are going to seek out someone who has handled this mess before. You are the king, this is not one of your duties.”

For a brief moment Anduin closed his eyes and he sighed. “There is no way I’m going to win, is there?”

“Not at all, beloved. Now come, this mess will still be here when you wake.”

“I know, and that’s what scares me.” Anduin groaned but he reached up to take Wrathion’s hand and he used it to pull himself to his feet. He glanced over his shoulder, truly seeing the outside world for the first time in hours and he dropped his head forward, resting it against the dragon’s shoulder. “It’s dawn.”

“It is, but that doesn’t matter. We will go and sleep for as long as we need. No one will disturb us, I have made sure of that.” Wrathion nudged Anduin up before he directed his gaze toward the doorway. He could see Valeera just off to the side, green eyes glowing in the darkness. She would watch over them, she always did. 

“You really have thought of everything, haven’t you?”

“I do try. Someone has to keep you alive.”

Tipping his head back, Anduin leaned into the dragon and laughed. He laughed until he was almost doubled over and was forced to hold onto Wrathion so as not to collapse. 

“I think that is enough of that,” Wrathion’s voice was firm, but there was no hiding the amusement in his tone. “Time for bed.” 

Between one breath and the next the dragon had a portal open to their chambers and he stepped through it. The swirl of arcane flame snapping shut behind them. Valeera would catch up sooner rather than later, and by then he would hopefully have his mate tucked in, dozing.

Smile on his face for what seemed like the first time in days, Anduin allowed his mate to strip him down to his smalls before he was guided toward the blankets. “Don’t expect to make this a habit.”

Wrathion chuckled as he walked the priest over to their bed and once he was safely nestled under the blankets he joined him. Normally Anduin would have had something to say, but there was only silence and the steady sound of his breathing; it seemed that the priest had already dropped off. He knew he would not be far behind, especially with the reassurance that Anduin was there with him. He yawned widely and rolled over onto his side, watching his mate with a gentle smile before he allowed his own eyes to close.

“Sleep well, you stubborn lion.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All credit goes to mythlorn for being the best editor a girl could ever hope for.


	3. Day 3: Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anduin is good at many things, others? Not so much. But it's okay, Wrathion still loves him.

Anduin knew that the sound of his footsteps that would give him away. Out of his armour, and in his soft leather boots, he allowed himself to rely on his cane for support. His bones ached not only from the constant weight of his armour, but the days on end of riding gryphons and horses. It was a relief to have the option of using it. When he was home there was no pretence of perfect, no need to appear whole, he could be himself. Home. Light, he had missed it.

“I see you have finally decided to grace us with your presence,” Wrathion’s voice was teasing as he pushed himself up and away from the throne. The guards around him snapped to attention, watching as the long absent king finally stepped into the room. 

Leaning heavily on his cane, Anduin hung his head, his hair hiding his face from view. He huffed tiredly as he stopped in the middle of the throne room. “I’m sorry I was away for so long. Things...got out of hand.”

“I know.” 

The priest didn’t look up, not even when Wrathion’s hands came to rest on his hips. “I wanted to come home.”

“I know.” Wrathion tugged him forward until his head was tucked beneath his chin and he turned them so that his body shielded his mate from prying eyes. 

Anduin pressed his face to his mate’s shoulder, one hand coming up to clutch at the front of the dragon’s tunic, while the other he wedged between them, cane held tightly in his fist. He fell silent for a time, taking comfort from the preternatural heat that Wrathion radiated.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

“No,” voice soft, Anduin shook his head slightly. “I don’t want to do anything right now beyond stand here with you.”

“Anduin.”

“Wrathion, please.” He knew his mate would want to see his face, but he didn’t want to move. He could hear the hitch in the dragon’s chest as he searched for the right words to cajole a response,but before he could say a word---he realized that he could hear voices nearing. Familiar voices. “Oh no.”

“Okay, that is it. What is going on?”

“A woman, from Boralus.”

Wrathion sighed. “Alright, tell me about this woman from Boralus”

Letting out a pained groan, Anduin released his hand from Wrathion’s tunic to thump against the dragon’s chest. “I intended for her to visit us later, not now. Now is terrible.”

“Then send her home.”

“I can’t do that. It would be rude. She’s the ward of Jaina’s mother, and apparently Bolvar’s daughter.”

Wrathion’s hand stilled at Anduin’s waist. “Fordragon?”

“One and the same.”

“That is… unexpected.”

Nodding, Anduin attempted to press even closer to his mate, wordlessly seeking comfort. “I didn’t know what to say when she approached me. I didn’t know what to do. I invited her, but as I said, I intended for her to visit us later.” He tipped his head and pressed his nose to the hollow of Wrathion’s throat. “She seems to think that I am… interested in her.”

Fingers digging into his mate’s waist for a moment, Wrathion’s shoulders shook with barely contained laughter. 

“Wrathion?” Anduin’s voice was more timid than he’d intended it to be, but he couldn’t help it.

“I’m sorry, beloved. I’m sorry.” His voice cracked as he curled himself around his mate. “I’m not upset. I simply don’t understand how she could think that. Anduin, my beloved mate, please do not take this the wrong way, but you are terrible at flirting.”

Anduin frowned, but he didn’t pull back. “If it were anyone else saying that, I would be offended, but it isn’t anyone else. It’s you, and I can admit that you’re right.” He sighed and raised his head, opening his eyes for the first time since he’d pressed himself to Wrathion’s chest. Peering around the room he could see the guards doing their best to appear occupied, but then as his gaze turned to the long corridor leading from the main entrance he froze.

“Don’t look,” 

“What?”

“Don’t look,” he repeated, voice low as he stared over his mate’s shoulder, his stomach clenching. He could feel Wrathion attempting to pull away but he clutched at his tunic. “She’s right behind you.”

Wrathion’s hands squeezed the priest’s hips tightly. “Does she see you?”

“No, but I think she’s hunting for me. You make an excellent wall.”

Chuckling softly, the dragon shifted his hold on his mate so that he could wrap his arms around him properly. “How would you like to approach this, my dearest king?”

Anduin bowed his head, closing his eyes as he considered his options. He could pretend that he wasn’t there. Wrathion certainly was large enough to block him from view. Or he could part from his mate and allow her to see him... that was less than appealing as he knew she would be at him the moment she laid eyes on him — the long hours on the ship had taught him as much. But then there was the third option, which somehow seemed to be the best one in his eyes; he could kiss Wrathion, and be done with any pretense by allowing her to see that he was already spoken for. 

“Anduin?” 

The priest took a deep breath before he stepped back, needing to see his mate’s face. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

Wrathion’s eyes widened, but then lit up as he caught on to what Anduin was saying. “Are you certain? I thought we had a rule of no kissing in the throne room.”

“I am entirely certain, Wrathion. Sometimes rules should be broken”

“Alright,” for a dragon, his grin was downright wolfish. “As you wish.”

Anduin had been prepared to lean forward a kiss his mate, but what he wasn’t prepared for was to be swung around and dipped like a character from one of his mother’s romance novels. He only had a moment to appreciate the devious gleam in Wrathion’s eyes---before the dragon brought their mouths together, kissing him for all that he was worth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyday I'm going to keep repeating, Mythlorn is a damn editing god.


	4. Day 4: Light/Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrathion lives in the shadows with only his guilt for company, watching. Always watching.

Wrathion would forever regret the actions that lead to the Broken Shore. He’d wanted to be there when they attacked, but instead he’d put his faith in the united forces of the Alliance and the Horde— which was quite possibly the worst mistake he had made in his life. The loss of both Varian and Vol'jin felt like personal blows, and his emotional response was not something he’d anticipated. He’d never seen eye to eye with either of the men, but he’d not wanted them dead.

Returning to Stormwind was at once the easiest, and most difficult, decision of his life. Anduin was there. Anduin who he still loved and would sacrifice anything for. But Wrathion knew that wasn't safe for him, and it would not be safe until he left Stormwind— and Alliance territory entirely. Left was furious, Right as well, but they remained with him. They understood the pull that he felt; even if he couldn't see or touch Anduin, he still needed to be there. 

From the shadows he watched as the circles under the priest's eyes became deeper and darker. The light in Anduin’s eyes dimmed, and he found his concern growing with each day that passed.

The war raged on, Anduin continued his decline, and Wrathion felt increasingly helpless. He could see how the worgen and his daughter did their best to comfort and guide the priest. While Greymane was adequate, it was his daughter who did the most good. She stood by her king’s side as much as possible, but she was not there in the night when he collapsed in on himself. Wrathion wanted to reach out and touch him, to hold him, but instead, he maintained silent vigil on Anduin's balcony

It was when Argus appeared in the sky, that Wrathion knew that he could no longer hide in the shadows. In the face of the Legion his own life meant nothing, and Anduin’s meant everything. He struggled to find the right moment to reveal himself, skirting the edges of priest's world, darting in and out of the darkness with increasing frequency. He knew that Anduin could see him, but not a word was said until the night before the final assault on Antorus.

~*~

“I know you’re there.”

The dragon remained still and silent, standing next to the fireplace, enveloped by the shadows. He'd subconsciously allowed himself to be caught, and while he thought he was prepared for the inevitability of his discovery, he was far from it 

"You can come into the light, Wrathion." Anduin stared into the flames, his knuckles white as he clutched at the arms of his chair. "You don't have to hide."

Wrathion closed his eyes tightly, shoving down the unexpected wave of terror which threatened to overwhelm him. After a moment he stepped forward, allowing the firelight to illuminate him fully. "I was never hiding, my dearest king. I was always right here in the shadows.” He watched as the corners of Anduin’s twitched up for a moment before the blank, exhausted expression returned to it. “Did you really think I would stay away forever?”

“No, Wrathion. I didn’t,” Anduin turned his head towards the dragon, pain evident in red rimmed eyes. “I missed you.”

Three steps brought him to the priest's side and without thinking he fell to his knees next to his chair. He peered up at Anduin, regret welling up in his chest as he met his gaze for the first time in four years. "I am so sorry."

With a soft sigh, Anduin brushed the pads of his fingers over the scales at the dragon’s temples. "None of this is your doing. There is nothing to be sorry for."

"Yes, there is. There is so much to be sorry for, and I don't even know where to begin." 

"Then don't say anything.”

Curling his fingers around the back of Anduin’s calf, Wrathion’s brow wrinkled with confusion. "If not words, what should I do? What would you ask of me?"

"Sit here with me. Stay out of the shadows and remain here in the light," Anduin's voice cracked, but he continued on. "Please, Wrathion. Stay here with me."

The dragon nodded, and encouraged by the fact that he hadn’t been pushed away he moved closer. “I will stay,” he promised, a small, shy smile settling on his lips. “I give you my word.”


	5. Day 5: Consort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tess notices things and Lorna is sent on a mission to find a certain dragon who has disappeared.

“I thought I might find you here.” 

Wrathion jerked around, staring at the warrior with wide eyes. “How di…” he trailed off for a moment, sighing in defeat. “Tess?”

“You’re learning,” Lorna laughed softly. “Yes, Tess. I don’t think there's a single hiding space that she doesn’t know about. When Valeera took her on, she dedicated herself to her apprenticeship fully---and here we are. I must say, I think you have found the deepest area in the city.”

“It is. I was not the first here, though. I found traces of my Aunt in the corridors. It seems instinct guided us both to the same place.” Pulling his knees up to his chest he wrapped his arms around them and pressed his lips together glumly before he looked away. His gaze returned to the water that ran past where he sat. “Black dragons are predictable.”

Lorna shook her head. “I wouldn’t say predictable, but you do have... certain needs.” Leaning against the wall behind her, she shifted her balance until she found a comfortable position. 

“And what might those be?”

“Darkness,” she watched Wrathion with a wry smile as she began her list. “Heat. Some place buried deep in the earth if at all possible. Solitude; especially after you’ve dealt crowds.”

As much as he hated to admit it, Wrathion knew she was right. Those were the things he desired most, and after facing the house of nobles for the first time? He needed to be as far away from them as possible. “I do not understand how Anduin handles nobility so easily.”

“Because he was born into his position, Wrathion. Each and every tutor he had prepared him to deal with those... squalling infants.”

Wrathion snorted, glancing at Lorna out of the corner of his eye. “I feel like that might be an insult to squalling infants.” He dropped his head forward, chin resting on his knees. “I have no idea what I’m doing, Lorna. None. I can kill my own kin without pause, but spending five minutes in a room those old men and I want to return to Pandaria.”

“I’ve stood by Tess when she went before them. She might not be queen yet, but it is clear that she is the bastard’s heir. That is her place, Queen of Gilneas... but they stare right through me and I feel like I am nothing.”

Raising his head, he stared at Lorna incredulously. She was one of the fiercest women he had ever met; she had faced the not only Sylvanas’ personal army, but the Legion. She was fearless, and actually rather terrifying until you got to know her… but even then, he knew she was a force to be reckoned with.

“Don’t look at me like that, Wrathion. I might be able to handle myself in combat, but as her consort? I feel like I’m drowning. It doesn’t stop me, though. I promised to be by her side, and that is exactly where I intend to be.” She pushed herself away from the wall, arms still crossed over her chest as she watched the dragon thoughtfully. “The next time you meet with them, come find me afterward. Anduin and Tess… politics has always been part of their life, but you and I are different.”

Wrathion nodded; he had made the same promise to Anduin; and when he gave his word it was not something he went back on—ever. He would have to face the house again, and again. It was a nightmarish concept, but perhaps if he was not alone, if he had someone else who understood, it would be easier. “I think that I might like that.”

“Good. Now get up. It’s almost time for dinner, and I’m hungry.” She jerked her head towards the door. “I heard rumors about a new shipment of Gilnean white from Bradensbrook, and I would like to get to it before a certain someone else does.”


	6. Day 6: Birth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Greymane-Wrynn child is a terrifying thought and they all know it.

“They’re going to be terrifyingly stubborn, aren’t they?” Wrathion looked up at Lorna from where he sat on the floor, a mix of amusement and terror on his face. “Wrynn and Greymane.”

Lorna shook her head, laughing brightly. “Stubborn is certainly one word for it. If they take after either of their grandfathers we are all in for one hell of a ride. If they take after them both? I don’t know if we’ll survive.”

“You know we can hear you, right? The doors are wide open.” Tess’ voice drifted out of the healing rooms. She was in the midst of being examined by the priest Anduin had brought in to tend to her— neither he nor her mother would be the ones to care for her, they were too close if difficult decisions needed to be made, and they knew it. 

“We know!” The dragon grinned. “That’s the point.”

“You are both absolutely terrible, I don’t know why I married you, Wrathion.” Head poking out from around the corner, Anduin grinned at his mate. “I must have had too much to drink that day.”

“That day, nothing.”

“Lorna!”

Unable to hold it in any longer, Wrathion began to laugh. 

When the discussion had first occurred, he never could have imagined the outcome. The thought of sharing his mate with anyone, even Tess, had turned his stomach; but as he considered the idea further he had to admit… it made sense. Both Tess and Anduin needed heirs, and they would not be able to produce them with their respective mates, and rather than seeing Anduin with a stranger, it would be with someone they both loved dearly and trusted.

The discussions had been awkward, and there was more stammering and blushing than he thought possible, but together the four of them sorted things out… although they all knew that plans made by either of their families had a tendency of going terribly awry. 

Their initial attempts had ended in abject failure. Everything seemed to go wrong in one way or another, and on more than one occasion there were tears and comfort needed for all involved. And yet somehow those missteps made each attempt after easier; they were all growing together in a way that had not been expected, but they embraced it. Their eventual children would be raised with parents who loved them, and cared for each other, and that was the only thing that mattered. 

“You’re all absolutely terrible and I hope you know that,” Tess finally made her way back out into the corridor, hands on her hips. The position only emphasized that it would not be long at all before their first child arrived. “But, you’re not wrong. We might all be done for if this one is as active as I think they’re going to be.”

Anduin shuddered as he escorted her back to their respective mates. “I just hope that they avoid the unfortunate Lothar propensity for throwing themself into danger without thinking.”

“You mean like you, dearest?” Wrathion looked up at Anduin mischievously.

“I resent that!” Glaring down at his mate, the priest found that he couldn’t wipe the smile entirely from his face.

Lorna reached down and grabbed Wrathion’s hand, tugging him to his feet in one smooth motion. “That dragon isn’t lying, little lion, and you know it.”

“Maybe… but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”


	7. Day 7: AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khadgar- Mage extraordinaire, husband, step-father, and now? Mail courier. (Wolftrust, Wranduin, disabled!Anduin)

“Khadgar!” Anduin limped down the corridor, attempting to catch the mage’s attention before he shifted forms and took off into the sky. He knew that the man would be back in a matter of days, but he needed to catch him before he left. 

Turning around, a smile spread across Khadgar’s face as he caught sight of Anduin. “Don’t push yourself, little lion. That leg is still new for you and I don’t want you to end up on your face… again.”

“You’re terrible. It was only the once.”

“It was a bit more than once, but yes, I am.” As Anduin came to a stop, Khadgar placed his hands on his shoulders and smiled down at him. “Now, tell me what it is that has you bolting after me like a man possessed?” 

The priest shifted from foot to foot, attempting to keep his balance. “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind taking a message to our mutual friend for me.” He flushed as he held up an intricately folded square of parchment. 

“So I’m a mail service now, am I?”

“Khadgar!”

Shaking his head, the mage laughed and took the parchment from Anduin, tucking it away in his belt. “Waiting until you’re out of your father’s sight, I shouldn’t be surprised.” He wrapped his arms around the priest, pulling him into a tight hug. “But you know I will.”

Anduin pressed his face to Khadgar’s shoulder, clutching at his robes as he had when he was still a child. “Thank you.”

“You don’t ever have to thank me, Anduin.” Khadgar’s voice was soft and he kissed the top of his head. “You might not be my blood, but you are my son.”

“I know.” Squeezing his eyes shut, the priest allowed himself to lean against the mage. “Be safe out there—not just for father, but for me as well.”

Khadgar sighed and squeezed Anduin. “Always, little lion. I have a family to come back to.” He paused for a moment, swallowing past the lump in his throat before he continued. “One day, when all of this is said and done and everything has been sorted, I will take you there. I think you would love Shadowmoon Valley, I know your friend certainly does.”

Tensing slightly, Anduin’s grip tightened on the mage’s robes. “Do you think father will relent?”

“I’m working on him,” the mage murmured, kissing the top of Anduin’s head once more before he took a step back. “He’s as stubborn as you are, but I think I can make him see sense.”

Anduin sighed, bowing his head. He could see his feet… or his foot, and the prosthetic that had been a gift from Moira and her people— as it turned out the Dark Iron mages were talented when it came to forging replacements for lost limbs. He could understand why, considering the mining and magma related injuries he’d read of; it was a relief to know that there were countless others who had been helped in the same way he had. 

Slipping his fingers under Anduin’s chin, Khadgar raised his head until he was able to meet his gaze. “I promised you that I would do my best, and I will. In the meantime? I’ll continue to offer you my services as mail carrier.”

The priest’s lips quirked into a small smile and he nodded before he took a half step back. Khadgar did need to leave, and the sooner he allowed him to, the sooner he would be back… hopefully with a letter in return. 

“Before I leave, do you need anything else? Anything at all?” Khadgar held Atiesh tightly in his hand as he watched Anduin. 

“No.” Shaking his head, Anduin wrapped his arms around himself. “Nothing else.”

“Alright. If you’re certain.”

“I am, Khadgar, really.” 

The mage huffed softly, a crooked smile settling on his lips. “Send for me if you need anything, Anduin.”

“I will,” he promised. “Now go. We’ll all be here when you return.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” Khadgar walked backwards for a moment. He peered over Anduin’s shoulder, his smile turning into a full grin at the sight of Varian hovering in the background, listening. “Do one thing for me,” he asked Anduin, his voice pitched so that the warrior could hear him.

“Anything.”

“Keep your father out of the pantry!”

“I heard that!” The warrior’s booming voice echoed through the corridors.

Anduin nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of his sire so close behind him. He let out a startled laugh and watched as the mage disappeared in a cloud of smoke. There was an amused caw as Khadgar flapped in place for a moment and then he was off, soaring into the bright blue sky.

“Coward! Say that to my face!”

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to mythlorn for his mad editing skills. He seriously deserve so much credit here.


End file.
